


At Times Like This, It's Obvious

by clems



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Cuddles, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, blanket nest, repost, sad!Michael, thats it tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-28
Updated: 2015-11-28
Packaged: 2018-05-03 18:38:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5302517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clems/pseuds/clems
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Mikey?” Luke whispers, “what’s wrong?”<br/>Michael shrugs, awkward in the position he’s curled into, not lifting his head.<br/>“Can I help?” Luke asks, running a loving hand through Michael’s thin hair.<br/>Michael’s silent for a moment, and Luke’s patient, knowing it can take a little while for the older boy to gather his thoughts when he gets like this. “I don’t know,” he finally sighs, voice barely above a whisper.<br/>drabble, REPOST FROM MY ORPHAN ACCOUNT</p>
            </blockquote>





	At Times Like This, It's Obvious

**Author's Note:**

> alrighty SO this is a repost, but it's from my own old account that I had orphaned. I regretted it like literally a day after deleting so I'm gonna repost the ones I really liked :)

A good majority of the time, Michael’s fine. He loves his life and his job and his fans and his boys. He’s a shoulder to cry on and dependent on cuddles and full of energy and a grounding force. But every once in a while, for seemingly no reason, he gets into these _moods._

He gets hit with a wave of crippling sadness, or sometimes, _nothingness_. He locks himself in his room (or his bunk, if they’re on the road) and turns off his phone, plays his music loud and blocks everyone out. He only emerges from his room to go to the bathroom, and even that he does strategically, timing it so that he wont run into anybody in the hallway. It’s sporadic and usually only lasts a day or two, but it still hurts the other boys to see their friend, brother (and in Luke’s case, boyfriend) in such distress and being unable to help.

Today is one of those days.

It’s nearing 3 in the afternoon, and Luke hasn’t heard from Michael since he pried himself from the older boy’s octopus grip that morning. He’s used to Michael sleeping late, especially this soon after they get back into their own country, the redhead always reacting worst to jetlag, but this was unusual even for him. He should’ve smelt the food Ashton was currently heating up in the kitchen and dragged his still mostly asleep ass out of bed by now.

“Hey, have you seen Mike today?” he asks Calum, who he’s been cuddled into watching cartoons for the last hour.

“Not since this morning, no,” the older boy answers, a frown pulling at his lips. “Shouldn’t he be up by now?”

“Probably,” Luke answers, pushing off Calum’s chest. “I’m gonna go check on him.”

He ventures into the hallway the bedrooms are in and stops outside of his (theirs). He knocks and, as expected, receives no answer. The door is unlocked when he tries it though, so he steps in and pulls it closed behind him, casting him in complete darkness.

“Mikey?” he whispers into the stillness of the room. His eyes adjust and he sees his boy sitting on the ground at the foot of the bed, head between his knees.

“What’s wrong?” Luke asks, voice gentle and soft as he takes a seat next to him on the floor.

 Michael shrugs, awkward in the position he’s curled into, not lifting his head.

“Can I help?” Luke asks, running a loving hand through Michael’s thin hair.

Michael’s silent for a moment, and Luke’s patient, knowing it can take a little while for the older boy to gather his thoughts when he gets like this. “I don’t know,” he finally sighs, voice barely above a whisper.

Luke’s quiet for a minute, draws his bottom lip between his teeth and brings his other hand up to twist his fingers between Michael’s as he racks his brain for something he can do for his boy. Finally, an idea comes to him. “Ok, I’m going to be right back,” he says, starting to stand up.

Michael lifts his head up and his sad eyes lock with Luke’s. “You’re leaving me?” he whispers, voice choked with emotion.

Luke leans down and presses his lips to his boyfriend’s shaking ones. “I’m coming right back, I promise,” he mutters. “Count to 100 alright? I’ll be back before you get there.”

He disappears, and true to his word he’s back before Michael even reaches 50, arms loaded down with what looks like all of the blankets in the house. He arranges them on the bed and then walks back over to Michael. “I made a nest,” he says softly, “Do you want to get in?”

Michael nods mutely and takes the offered hands. Luke leads him over to their bed and he crawls under the blankets, pulling one over his head.

“Does this help?” Luke asks, finding Michael’s back through the layers of fabric and rubbing gentle circles there.

“Yeah,” Michael sighs, melting into the blonde’s touch.

“Are you ever coming out?” the younger boy asks, a fond smile tugging at his lips.

“No,” Michael mutters.

“That’s okay,” Luke smiles, burrowing his way under the blanket to hold his boy. He wraps his arms around Michael’s waist and tangles their long legs together, pressing a kiss to his hair. He feels Michael shudder against him, followed a few minutes later by warm tears soaking into his collar.

“I love you,” the older boy gasps, and falls asleep with Luke’s fingers in his hair and Luke’s lips on his forehead and Luke’s sweet words pressed into his skin.


End file.
